


The Black Panther

by AngelGab



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-07-14 05:53:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7156229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelGab/pseuds/AngelGab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr Elle Martin is a renowned intelligence operative in The Chrome that acts as a consulting agency for Secret Services, governments and monarchies. On her fifth mission, she is assigned to capture a notorious ringleader of a group of hacker networks, The Scorpion and its chief financier. She goes undercover at Scotland Yard and encounters Sherlock Holmes and his partner, Dr John Watson.  </p><p>Inspired by the awesome Maejones whose amazing writing inspired me to start writing. I only own the new characters! My first fan fiction with no beta. All mistakes made are mine. Any feedback is much appreciated! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A City that never sleeps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maejones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maejones/gifts).



The sun was peeking through a cloudy horizon when Elle arose. As Elle stretched her petite frame at her bedroom windows, she thanked God for the chance to be back in London and opened her windows.

 

London had a cosmopolitan vibe that reached out to her dwellers and visitors with a siren-like seductive charm. Though Elle preferred the fresh air of the English countryside, the relentless energy (and crime levels) of London gave her the appropriate levels of motivation to get out of bed. 

 

There was never a dull moment. Last night, an armed robbery occurred five blocks away from her apartment. She was headed home from her usual surveillance and manhandled the robber by dumping him, gagged and tied up with cable ties, outside the nearest police station. Ah, the thrill of the chase fuelled her love of adventure and everything dangerous.

 

Her employer, The Chrome arranged for a middle level post for Elle as a criminal psychologist within Scotland Yard. Only the highest intelligence operatives knew about her actual mission. She could have settled in as a detective but a criminal psychologist position afforded her more flexibility and security access to her identified persons of interest. She arrived two weeks earlier to set up surveillance spots, bolt-holes and equipment dumps.  

 

She stretched languorously for one last time before lacing up her running shoes for a quick run. London was just waking up and she enjoyed her current anonymity whilst running towards Kensington Street. She was just turning into Baker Street before she ran right smack into a dark grey coat.

 

“Oomph!” she started, almost falling backwards before her quick reflexes jolted her limbs forwards.

 

“Watch where you’re going!” said a grouchy, low baritone voice. 

 

Elle looked up and saw one of her persons of interest, Sherlock Holmes, an upcoming consulting detective and brother of Mycroft Holmes.

 

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, eyes widened.  “Are you all right?

 

“Of course I’m all right!” he bellowed. 

 

_So Mr. Sherlock Holmes is not a morning person. No surprise there._

 

She shrugged her shoulders before jogging away with a smirk, leaving Mr. Holmes cursing about runners who were better off running in parks or gyms.  She knew she would have to meet this grouchy man and his partner at some point. She was looking forward to knocking down his arrogance and rudeness a few pegs.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade dragged himself into Scotland Yard thirty minutes early to prepare a briefing deck for a new team member. He was glad for more resources and hoped that his occasional “consultant” would take kindly (or with as little fuss as possible) to a change. He sighed out loud when past memories of Andersen, his crime scene officer, and Sherlock Holmes arguing came to mind. He rubbed his temples and hoped for the best. 

 

A cheery “good morning, sir” broke him out of his dark thoughts.

 

The greeting came out of a beautiful, red-lipped woman clad in a snug, leather biker chic outfit. His latest team member was a petite, exotic-looking brunette with all her curves in the right places. Greg blinked twice and breathed in sharply before he acknowledged her presence. 

 

“Miss, Dr. Elle? Dr. Elle Martin? I’m sorry I haven’t had my morning cuppa yet! Welcome to Scotland Yard!’ he beamed and reached out to shake Elle’s right hand.

 

“You have an interesting accent… I can’t place it. Where are you from?” Greg asked.

 

He ran his hands through his silver-streaked hair quickly whilst his new colleague sat across his desk. 

 

“It’s a mix of French, American and Cambodian accents, I suppose.  I spent most of my childhood in different continents, sir.” Elle blushed.

_Stay professional!_ He cursed at himself mentally whilst flashing her the dimpled smile he saved for beautiful women on weekend nights. He was halfway through the briefing session before a series of text messages assaulted his time alone with Elle.

 

_There has been another murder. Why didn’t you inform me?  SH_

_Surely, Scotland Yard’s finest has some suspects in mind? SH_

_This is murder, not suicide. You idiots. SH_

_Call me in. SH_

_I’m 15 minutes away. SH_

_I’m on the way. SH_

 

 _God, give me strength._ Lestrade groaned inwardly and frowned as he peered at his mobile phone.

 

“Is everything ok, sir?” asked Elle. Lestrade sighed and explained details of the recent murders that currently confounded the Metropolitan Police.  Somehow, he spent more time explaining the role of his ad-hoc consultant and his quirks. 

Elle nodded with a small smile and was about to respond before a female officer popped her curly head into the office.

 

“The _freak_ is here,” she voiced sharply.

 

Elle raised her left eyebrow in astonishment. 

 

“Dr Elle Martin, meet Sergeant Sally Donovan.  Sally, meet our new criminal psychologist, Dr Elle,” Lestrade introduced whilst picking up his extra-large coffee mug. 

 

“Let us meet Mr. Holmes, the consultant I mentioned,” he smiled weakly.

 

 _Poor Detective Inspector Lestrade._ Elle felt sorry for her new supervising officer.

 

“Oh, the freak is gonna _love_ you, Dr. Elle!” Sally almost cheered.

 

Lestrade rolled his eyes.   

 

“Please just call me Elle,” Elle said with a smile, shaking Sally’s hand before they headed towards the conference room.

 

Elle observed the tall, curly haired man with interest as he rattled off a series of insults about Scotland Yard before Inspector Lestrade. He caught her eye, looked up and down briefly before continuing his tirade.

 

 _Boy, this man can talk and he is making some sense_ _about the case._ Elle thought.

 

"Sherlock, meet Dr Elle Martin, criminal psychologist, educated in Harvard and _new_ to Scotland Yard," Lestrade announced quickly when Sherlock finally paused for a breath.  

 

Sherlock scowled at Elle and Lestrade.

 

"Why do you need a criminal psychologist when you have me?" he quipped loudly.

 

He cocked his head to the right and muttered, “Mixed parentage, French? Indonesian? Five foot five, late 20s, size 6, outdoor sports lover, single, tough childhood, only child, absent father, rebellious attitude, lived in different countries and went for a run this morning past Baker Street.”

 

Lestrade and Sally gasped.

 

Elle smiled and said, “Very good, Mr. Holmes. You are 70% correct.”

 

“What about the other 30%?” Sherlock muttered before realizing he voiced his usual deductions out loud. John Watson, his best friend had warned him to stop doing that.

 

“That’s for me to know and not for you to find out,” Elle winked.

 

Sherlock paused and his eyes widened slightly.

 

“Mr. Holmes, please be assured that I am more interested in the criminals _after_ they are caught. Your expertise is clearly _relevant_ and _important_ to Scotland Yard. I am sure I will learn _immensely_ from you,” Elle smiled warmly and stretched her right hand out for a handshake. 

 

Sherlock frowned at her outstretched hand, grasped and shook it for a brief second.  He glanced at her further, observing her snug, black leather outfit and ruffled white blouse underneath. A light green scarf wrapped lightly around her neck enhanced her olive skin tone. She was all covered up but her snug leather outfit served to enhance her fit and shapely curves. She wore little make up except for a red lipstick. No doubt she dressed for comfort and easy riding but the overall effect was rather attractive.

 

_She is too distracting. She is like a black panther ready to pounce into action._

 

“Let’s head to Saint Bart’s, Lestrade.  That’s enough pleasantries for the day!” Sherlock bristled. 

 

“Would you care to join us, Elle?” Lestrade queried. 

 

“We need all the expertise we can get about this murderer,” Lestrade added.

 

“Absolutely, sir. I have been looking forward to work,” Elle smiled at Sally and Lestrade.

 

“I’ll ride there and meet you all at Saint Bart’s,” she turned and went to grab her safety helmet.

 

Sherlock was aghast. This new team member was a mystery. How could he, the great Sherlock Holmes, only be 70% correct in his deduction? He was usually at least 98% accurate. He endeavoured to discover the inaccurate 30% that Dr Martin mentioned. Perhaps after piecing the missing pieces, she would not be as distracting.

 

~~~~~~~

 

John was ogling at Dr Martin's shapely butt as she perched on top of her motorcycle in her snug black leather trousers.

 

"She’s the new criminal psychologist?" John sputtered with his eyes wide and his pupils slightly dilated as she pulled off her helmet and swished her long, thick brunette hair into place. Though in John and Lestrade's minds, she was probably doing that in slow motion with her red lips pouted and butt jutted out seductively. 

 

“Get a hold on yourself, John. We are here on a case!” Sherlock snarled in irritation.

 

The interesting fact was that Dr Martin was seemingly unaware of her effect on these two men.  She looked engrossed in the new environment, and was smiling whilst being introduced to the Metropolitan Police on site by Lestrade.  Her confidence and charisma seemed to make many of the men less anxious about the murder.

 

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes.

 

_Dr Martin was definitely too distracting._

 

As the investigative entourage entered the morgue, Dr John Watson ingratiated himself to Elle and bent his ear to her every word. 

 

Sherlock made an irritated noise and charged ahead of everyone.  He burst open the morgue doors and made a tiny, pony-tailed brunette gasp in surprise.

 

“Ah, Dr. Molly Hooper, what did you find out about our victim?” Sherlock asked loudly, hoping to drown out Elle’s laughter at John’s terrible jokes about London’s French bistros.  No doubt John was going to ask Elle out.

 

“Oh hello Sherlock…and everyone! Our victim, Mrs. Sally Chin, was strangled by an iron chain of sorts. I am running some lab tests on what she consumed before making my final conclusions,” Molly offered.

 

Sherlock mentally chewed on the potential murder weapon as Dr Elle Martin was introduced to Dr Molly Hooper. There were now two petite brunettes in his life – one a socially awkward and brilliant pathologist, the other a charismatic and likely inept psychologist. 

 

“What type of a criminal would use an iron chain to strangle his/her victim? Dr Martin, what is your psychologist take on this?” Sherlock asked haughtily.

 

John frowned at Sherlock. Sally rolled her eyes whilst Lestrade rubbed his temples.

 

“It’s a good question, Mr. Holmes. I would say someone with a vendetta for revenge or pure hatred towards our victim or for what she stands or rather stood for,” Elle replied, whilst peering at the victim’s neck.

 

“I suppose that makes some sense,” Sherlock huffed.

 

“Did you detect any evidence of self-harm or physical abuse on Mrs Chin, Dr Hooper?” Elle asked.

 

“No, there was no evidence of that,” Molly replied.

 

“Drug residue in her blood?” Elle probed further.

 

_Darn it. She is not entirely stupid. She is actually exploring the victim’s past to draw a connection to the murderer. I should be doing that instead of testing her!_

Lestrade smiled and said, “Do you see a connection to an earlier case, Elle?”

 

“There was a case in China, a couple of years back where a young man in his 20s identified and killed women who were drug abusers or who hurt themselves habitually. He truly believed that he was doing the world justice by getting rid of these women. He said they were not fit to be mothers or to even exist in society. He was diagnosed with acute psychosis and admitted into a mental institution, no doubt now terrifying some poor nurses,” she uttered and shook her head.

 

“So you think our murder is psychotic or fanatic?” Sherlock exclaimed.

 

“I wouldn’t say that for sure, Mr. Holmes.  What happened to the other victims? Were they similar in profile?” she responded.

 

Sherlock and Elle spent the next ten minutes dissecting the victims’ and murderer’s potential profiles while the rest gaped open-mouthed at them.

 

It was apparent that the new team member was more than a match for Mr. Holmes. As Mycroft Holmes would say, she was _not_ a goldfish.

 

 


	2. The Collaboration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle collaborates with Mycroft. Our villains make their appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some racial issues are mentioned. No offence intended to anyone living or dead.

Sherlock found himself visualizing Elle’s hazel brown eyes and red lips when he played his violin later in the day. They had parted ways after shortlisting 3 potential criminal and victim profiles for Scotland Yard to investigate. He actually enjoyed discussing his theories and deductions with Elle. She had sufficient levels of cognitive intelligence to ask him relevant questions and also superior emotional intelligence to make him look clever. He had never encountered anyone like that before. Her intelligence made her extremely attractive to him. 

 

Her unique parentage and olive skin tone made her look more mysterious and alluring than the typical Caucasian woman. Her offspring would have amazing genes. He tried to file that odd ( _why was he thinking of her offspring?_ ) conclusion under his biology files in his mind palace, but realized that it did not really fit.  He had to create a separate box for this intriguing psychologist. Especially when he had 30% to uncover.

 

 _Oh for God’s sake! I need another case!_ Sherlock ranted mentally and tried not to think of how she looked in her tight black leather pants when perched on top of her motorcycle. The violin playing picked earnestly with Beethoven on 221B Baker Street.

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

As Elle walked out of an eventful first day at Scotland Yard, she felt eyes on her. Out of reflex, she reached into her helmet for a concealed pistol whilst she continued strolling casually towards her motorcycle.

 

A black limited series BMW approached her left and a well-dressed woman stepped out.

 

“Dr Elle Martin? Hi, I’m Anthea Taylor, here on behalf of the British Government.” She displayed her security identification tag for Elle’s inspection.

 

“Your presence is requested by one of our senior officers. Could you please come with me? I will ensure that your motorcycle will be parked at your residence by the time you reach home,” she smiled and reached her hand out for Elle’s keys.

 

Elle nodded and stepped into the black vehicle, knowing full well that she was not done for the day. She kept silent and shut her eyes throughout the short 15-minute drive since her companion was typing furiously on her smartphone.

 

They stopped outside an abandoned fire station.

 

“Please come with me, Dr Martin,” Anthea said.

 

They stepped into a room occupied only by two black office chairs and a small white table between them. A fine-looking British gentleman clad in a formal suit sat on one of the chairs.  He stood up when the two ladies walked in.

 

“Good evening Dr Martin, thank you for meeting me at such short notice.  My name is Mycroft Holmes,” the gentleman spoke in a pleasant tone.

 

 _Ah, we finally meet._ Elle was rather thrilled as she had long heard of Mycroft Holmes’ expertise and resourcefulness. According to The Chrome’s intelligence, Mycroft Holmes was The British Government.

 

“Good evening, Mr. Holmes. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Elle smiled.

 

“Well, I believe you met my brother, Sherlock Holmes, and apparently, you have made some sort of an impression on him,” he said, raising his left eyebrow quizzically.

 

Elle frowned slightly and asked,” So, you meet me in a clandestine fashion in an abandoned building to discuss your brother’s impression of me?”

 

Mycroft cleared his throat in embarrassment and said, “Come to think of it. Yes. You are right. We are meeting here because, well, my brother is of use to me and the British Government. I like to be made aware of the people he works with.”

 

 _Clearly this woman is not easily intimidated_ , _unlike Sherlock’s other goldfish._ Mycroft was mildly intrigued.

 

 _Does he not know who I really work for?_ Elle blinked.

 

“What do you want from me, Mr. Holmes?” Elle looked at Mycroft gently.

 

“I don’t really want anything from you, except to keep my brother at an arm’s length and please do not entertain any romantic notions towards him,” Mycroft looked evenly at Elle’s face.

 

Elle laughed heartily. “Haha! Mr Holmes, I’m here to work and learn from Scotland Yard, which means I have to work with Sherlock rather regularly. Not to worry, Sherlock is not my type,” she winked and smiled cheekily.

 

“Pray tell, Dr Martin, what is your type?” Mycroft probed. _Hmm, perhaps John Watson would be her type?_

 

“Let’s just say that they are usually well-mannered, traditional and somewhat mysterious,” she uttered and winked at him again.

 

“So why should I help you?” Elle raised her left eyebrow quizzically.

 

“Would a significant monthly stipend suffice? Living in London can be quite costly.” Mycroft stated.

 

“I don’t need any money, my employer pays me well enough,” she shrugged.

 

“What about access to the high society in England? A senior position in Scotland Yard?” He suggested, slightly irritated since most people would usually say yes to his first suggestion.

 

“What else can you offer?” Elle asked and looked at her fingernails.

 

“A tenured position in Oxford?” he asked with a furrow in his brow.

 

“God, no!” she exclaimed with widened eyes.

 

“What do you want, Dr Martin?” Mycroft asked as patiently as he could muster.

 

“How about you owe me one big favour, Mr Holmes? Or you can bring me out on a date?” she smiled widely.

 

Elle sat up straight and crossed her legs. Using her womanly charms was sometimes necessary in the course of her intelligence work. For emotionally unavailable men like Mycroft, she had to be more obvious in her flirting for the desired result - she wanted a senior member of the British intelligence to owe a her a big favour.

Mycroft looked somewhat startled and his ears turned red.

 

“We have an understanding then, Dr Martin. A big favour it is. Thank you very much for your time. We’ll be in touch. Miss Taylor shall send you home,” he said quickly and nodded slightly.

 

“Good evening Mycroft. Please call me Elle,” she responded with a toothy grin.

 

Mycroft was regretting his decision to meet Elle.  She was far too calm and clever for a civilian. Mycroft decided to dial one of his favourite contacts in the British Secret Service.

 

_~~~~~~~_

The next week were filled with mandatory on-boarding visits and mountains of paperwork.  Elle hated the administrative processes of her cover and endeavoured to complete it as fast as possible. She was looking forward to spending time out in the field.

 

“Dr Martin, Inspector Lestrade is requesting for your assistance at Chinatown. He is at the Dragon Restaurant,” a junior detective approached her cubicle.

 

Elle grinned widely and grabbed her safety helmet. “Thanks Pete!”

 

An elderly woman was gesturing and shouting in her native Cantonese dialect as Inspector Lestrade looked sheepishly at her. Sherlock was pacing up and down and muttering to himself.

 

He turned when he heard her motorcycle purring to a stop outside the Dragon Restaurant.

 

“How kind of you to finally turn up!” he snarled.

 

 _Wow, someone’s full of English charm._ Elle raised her left eyebrow.

 

“A good afternoon to you too, Sherlock,” she said.

 

“Oh, thank God, Dr Martin. Thank you for coming at such short notice! Can you please translate to this Madam here that we are not here to arrest her staff but we merely need to search the premises?” Lestrade begged.

 

“We don’t have a search warrant though. We think our serial murderer could have left a body here,” he whispered.

 

“No problem. Hong Ni Shi, qing wen ni neng shuo pu tong hua ma?” Elle asked the elderly lady gently.

 

After the dust settled, the trio found themselves staring at another murder victim in the basement of the Dragon Restaurant.

 

The victim looked barely past twenty. Elle clenched her right fist in anger whilst Sherlock stared stonily at the crime scene. Inspector Lestrade was calling in “the boys” and before long the Metropolitan Police (Met for short) barricaded the Dragon Restaurant and brought in its employees for questioning. Sherlock proceeded with his crime scene deductions whilst Elle headed back to the Met to assist in the translations.

 

They were already at murder victim number five. A press conference was called for the next morning. Scotland Yard was a flurry of activity and it stretched through the wee hours of the night. Sherlock spent some hours in the station, poring over details and observing some of the interviews. Elle noticed that he barely ate and drank lots of coffee. He also stared into space a lot, Lestrade said he entered his ‘mind palace’ during those times to analyse data and organise his thoughts. After he disappeared to St. Bart’s, he came back to the Met to look through the compiled facts and interview transcripts. 

 

John turned up before tea and caught up with the details quickly. He popped by Elle’s desk and was being his friendly self when Sherlock harassed him for nicotine patches. John glared at Sherlock and went off in a huff to the nearby 24-hour store.

 

Sherlock stopped awkwardly near Elle’s cubicle.

 

“Hi Sherlock, would you like a proper cup of tea while waiting for your nicotine patches?” Elle asked. “I was going to brew some.”

 

“Yes, thank you, 2 sugars, please.” Sherlock said and sat down at one of the chairs near her cubicle.

 

“Here you go,” Elle said and passed Sherlock his tea and some chocolate biscuits.

 

“How’s your investigation going?” she asked after Sherlock looked more settled.

 

“None of the employees is the murderer,” he said curtly and frowned.

 

“What made you come to this conclusion?” she asked.

 

“Based on our earlier discussions and latest victim profile, I am rather convinced that our murderer is xenophobic, a Caucasian male in his 30s with a troubled past and sadistic tendencies. He may even be working with an accomplice. “Sherlock said.

 

_I know someone who fits that description. This man is truly impressive. The Chrome can really do with his expertise. Though I feel like smacking his face sometimes for his arrogance and rudeness._

Elle raised her left eyebrow. “Hmmm, I suppose I could be a potential victim for our murderer?” Elle asked.

 

“Some white supremacists would view Eurasians like me as an abomination of nature,” she grimaced slightly.

 

Sherlock gave Elle a look of concern. _Did she not realise that her mixed parentage gave her the best of both worlds and stunning looks? Did I just think ‘stunning looks’? Did I say that out loud? NOOO!!_

Images of a seven-year-old Dr Martin being taunted by her classmates sprung to Sherlock’s mind. A teenage version of her being harassed by her sexually curious male classmates also popped up. Judging from John’s, Lestrade’s and other Met policemen’s reactions to her, he was certain she faced some sexual harassment on a regular basis. It explained her choices in clothing and transport – all meant to conceal her femininity. Perhaps Sherlock was now closer to 80% of his Dr Martin’s deduction score.

He felt like his gut was suddenly attacked by some butterflies fluttering simultaneously. Being around Dr Martin made him feel angry, protective and vulnerable all at the same time. It made his head hurt. It was _ridiculous_ because he never experienced such a tumultuous state before. It was also very disconcerting as he only knew Dr Martin for less than three weeks. There was still something about her that was slightly off, he had yet to put his finger to it.  

 

However, he had to focus on nabbing this serial murderer and not let a woman distract him, no matter how intriguing or beautiful she was. It didn’t help that the woman in question sat across him in her tailored grey suit and red lipstick. Her dark hair was held up in a classic French chignon that highlighted her graceful neck and high cheekbones. Her feminine scent ( _Chanel no. 5?_ ) wafted gently to his nostrils in small, gentle waves as she moved about her desk. He had to leave before he could say something rude or hurtful as he was prone to hide under an arrogant façade to avoid exposing his true emotions.

 

_Hmm, looks like Mr Holmes has disappeared into his mind palace again._

Elle smiled and shook her head slightly. Sherlock flared his nostrils and blinked furiously.

 

“Welcome back, Sherlock.” Elle smiled at Sherlock fondly.

 

“You’re right, Dr Martin. Pl-please be careful when you go about the streets of London. Goodnight.” he said hastily and stood up to leave, without finishing his tea.

 

“Good evening, _Sherlock_.” Elle responded before sipping her tea.

 

~~~~~~~

The press conference progressed smoother than anticipated. Inspector Lestrade revealed Scotland Yard’s (or rather Sherlock Holmes’) hate crime suspicions and had the media all fluttering about London’s racial issues simmering under the surface.

 

The headlines screamed of racial issues for a week after that. Elle had to appear on some interviews to showcase Scotland Yard’s equal opportunity and non-discriminatory employment stance. She was very reluctant to do that as it meant compromising her cover.  Fortunately, The Chrome gave her clearance and provided her with more high-tech security equipment – those that she always coveted and could fit into small fashion accessories or cosmetics.

 

Mycroft Holmes finally got wind of her true identity and confronted her with the truth.

 

“I thought you knew of my association, Mr Holmes,” Elle responded nonchalantly (well, she tried to) when Mycroft picked her up in his luxurious BMW.

 

Mycroft pursed his lips into a thin line. “Clearly, your mission was more sensitive and confidential than expected. It is best that no one else in your current team knows about your true mission,” he warned.

 

Elle rolled her eyes at Mycroft’s patronising attitude. _Does he think I just graduated from spy school? Darn the Holmes’ boys and their arrogance._

 

“Speaking of which, there is an opportunity for you to meet one of your persons of interest. Baron Felix Gordon will be attending the annual charity fundraiser which will be held at the Savoy this Friday evening,” Mycroft said nonchalantly.

 

Baron Felix Gordon was known to a few in the intelligence community to be a key patron of several hacker criminal networks. Elle had hoped her covert surveillance missions at Gordon’s residences would uncover some leads to their hideouts. Unfortunately, they had come up empty so a direct approach was next. Baron Gordon had a notorious weakness for beautiful women despite his marriage to a certain high profile duchess. 

 

“That’s great news. Are you going to be attending this ball with me or is there someone else appropriate I should ask along instead?” Elle asked.

 

“It would be highly suspicious for me to attend such high profile events alone.” Elle explained.

 

“Not to worry, it’s been arranged for me to attend this function as your companion as I am in a suitable position to do so.” Mycroft added.

 

Mycroft failed to mention that he was infamous for his bachelorhood amongst the intelligence community. Hence, he was the most logical choice as Elle’s companion or date for the fundraiser.

 

“Excellent, that settles it then. Please pick me up at 7pm sharp. You know where I live.” Elle smiled and exited the vehicle.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The black BMW picked Elle up at exactly 7pm on Friday evening. Mycroft was decked in a full tuxedo as required for such formal occasions. Elle waltzed out of her apartment lift in a long golden toga dress that had a slit almost to the top of her right leg. Her long dark hair was styled to the left and curled voluminously.  

 

Mycroft blinked as she entered the vehicle. This Elle looked completely different to the tailored suit Elle from Scotland Yard office. She even donned expensive jewellery that sparkled in the car lights, giving her a glamorous glow. Mycroft felt a little proud to be accompanying her for the gala. He wondered where she hid her revolver, considering the snug fit of her dress.

 

_Oh dear Lord, I am becoming interested in goldfish like Sherlock! Then again, Elle is not a goldfish. What is she? A lioness or a wolf in sheep’s clothing?_

 

“You look really smart in your tux, Mycroft.” Elle complimented, breaking Mycroft out of his reverie.

 

“I see that you are well prepared for tonight’s mission too.” Mycroft responded with a little smile.

 

“Absolutely, I cannot wait to meet Baron Gordon,” she smirked and tapped her fingers on the carefully concealed weapon and surveillance gadgets in her purse.

~~~~~~~~

At 221B Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes was dressing up as a waiter to facilitate his entry into the fancy annual fundraiser at The Savoy. He finally had a good lead on a suspect and convinced John to accompany him to snoop on Dr Jonas Sebastian who was flagged as a hate crime instigator on the Internet by Wiggins, his ad-hoc cyber assistant cum homeless informant.

 

Sherlock thoroughly enjoyed working undercover and blended in easily into the background whilst John was visibly less comfortable in his mock waiter outfit. John had almost tripped and crashed the champagne tray into a group of guests.

 

As Sherlock scanned the room, he was unsurprised to see Mycroft ambling into the cocktail lounge in a full tuxedo. He walked towards him and served him a glass of champagne. Mycroft barely raised his brows at Sherlock and sipped his champagne. Sherlock’s attention was suddenly interrupted by a woman who looked very familiar and was walking gracefully towards him.

 

This woman was breathtakingly beautiful and attracted a significant amount of male and some female attention from the room. The golden hue of her long dress displayed her hourglass shape and olive complexion. Her long dark hair was curled and styled to her right to emphasise the toga cut of her dress and a slit revealing most of her right leg. If her intention was to seduce and attract attention, she passed with flying colours. This image was completely unlike the woman who sought to downplay her femininity with tailored suits. Or so he had thought. Sherlock was not getting past his 70% deduction score of Dr Martin at all.

 

“Hi Sherlock! I thought I saw John somewhere near the bar,” Elle whispered and smiled winsomely at him.

 

Sherlock breathed in sharply. He peered at Mycroft (who was smirking at him) and Elle was peering back at him curiously.  He felt his heart rate accelerate suddenly and he felt the same gut butterflies fluttering with furious velocity.

 

_What the hell is she doing here? And why is she with Mycroft? Why do I feel like I am having a heart attack?_

A certain Baron approached their table and Sherlock quickly turned around to serve him champagne.

 

“Good evening, Ma’am and sirs,” he nodded courteously and strode to the kitchen quickly.

 

_Damn it. Is Dr Martin a gold digger who only dresses up for high society fundraisers? Is she wooing Mycroft? Impossible. Or is it?_

“Sherlock, did you see Elle with Mycroft? Did you know that they were dating? Why didn’t you tell me?!” John whispered sharply when Sherlock entered the kitchen.

 

Sherlock frowned and thought deeper.

 

_Mycroft is certainly not the sort who dates women or men he knows casually and definitely not at a high profile event._

 

“I do not think they are dating, John. I believe Dr Martin is more than a criminal psychologist,” Sherlock deduced with a slight frown.

“Did you see Dr Sebastian at the bar?” he asked John quickly.

 

“Phew, that’s a relief! She looks AMAZING! Oh, Dr Sebastian, y-yes, I did! Why did you say that Elle is more than a criminal psychologist?” John said.

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Just a hunch. Let’s get back to work, don’t forget why we are here.” 

As the evening progressed, Sherlock could not help but observe Elle from the corner of his eye. She was flirting with the same Baron that he served earlier whilst Mycroft made small talk with other guests. Sherlock felt repulsed and angered _(why?)_ when he saw the Baron touch Elle’s hand on the pretext of admiring her diamond ring.

 

_What was Mycroft playing at? Why was he around when other men approached Elle? It was as if he deliberately gave her space to flirt with the Baron._

However, all such notions flew out of the window when Sherlock caught Elle kissing Mycroft’s cheek. Mycroft blushed and kissed her hand tenderly whilst talking to Baron whatshisname.

 

_Oh my dear God. Mycroft has a goldfish. Then again, Elle is not really a goldfish, is she? Why must it be Elle? When and how did they meet?_

 

As if on cue, Dr Sebastian appeared at last to the ballroom and Sherlock was glad for his case to shift his mind back on point, even if his heart felt somewhat torn. Interestingly, Dr Sebastian walked up to the Baron whatshisname and whispered into his ear. The Baron excused himself but not before leaving a lecherous kiss on Elle’s cheek and a nod to Mycroft.

  
Sherlock followed Dr Sebastian as intended. The evening was becoming more interesting by the minute.  

 

~~~~~~~~~

The evening progressed as planned with Baron Gordon flirting with Elle and Mycroft disappearing at strategic timings. Elle did not expect to see Sherlock and John, which meant that the serial killings could be linked to her own investigation. This development only meant more complications for her cover and degradation of the safety of the people she worked with. Dr Sebastian had already killed her colleagues who were sent to handle him last year. Elle knew she had to bide her time and maintain her patience if she wanted to succeed in her mission.

 

Contrary to belief, The Chrome did not assassinate their targets but instead, created unambiguous conditions for them to be captured by their clients. The Chrome’s operatives were to engage their targets only if their lives were threatened. They were also the best in the business and paid the best for those deemed worthy to work for them. The Chrome’s employees were usually ex-military or ex-Secret Service operatives who were extremely intelligent, emotionally stable and highly skilled in all sorts of combat skills. Some were even armed with doctorates, like Elle.     

 

Elle had kept her surveillance on Dr Jonas Sebastian since she arrived in London. This key person of interest was highly dangerous and sadistic. To the public, Dr Sebastian was a private psychiatrist serving the elite, however, to the covert intelligence community, he was the undisputed ringleader of The Scorpion _,_ an organisation responsible for many infamous national security hacks and highly classified intelligence leaks. To see Dr Sebastian together with Baron Gordon potentially validated her analysis that the Baron was a private financier of The Scorpion, however, she needed to uncover hard evidence and online trails of their illicit activities.

 

Perhaps Sherlock Holmes could assist her in her investigation. Elle just needed Mycroft to agree with her request. Perhaps it was time to call in the big favour he owed her, either way, Sherlock Holmes was needed.


	3. The Heat is on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some graphic descriptions of violence towards Elle. Please do not read if it gives you nightmares. No offence intended and any similarities to anyone living or dead or fictional is purely coincidental.

**_2 hours later…_ **

****

Elle found herself bound and gagged in the boot of a car accelerating on a highway. Her head spun and she felt dizzy. She recalled that she was drugged and passed out in the ladies’. She had managed to press her emergency button embedded within her ring, which meant that Mycroft would have found out about her predicament. Now all she had to do was wait and meet her kidnapper. He could even be the serial murderer that Sherlock Holmes and Scotland Yard was hoping to nab. He was very likely to be Jonas Sebastian.

 

_But how did they managed to drug me? These people are good. Clearly the drug would be colourless and odourless. Time to update The Chrome’s substances’ folio._

 

“Get up you bitch!” someone snarled and pulled Elle by her hair roughly, causing sharp pain to shoot up her scalp. She was dragged out of the car and into an abandoned warehouse that smelled of rotten fish.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Our consultant from The Chrome has been kidnapped. Follow her GPS signal and bring her back safe and sound.” Mycroft sounded off to his rescue operatives over the phone as he strode out to his vehicle.

 

 _How could one of the top agents from The Chrome get kidnapped? We are clearly dealing with someone very dangerous._ Mycroft frowned and tapped his fingers. He knew his operatives would be able to trace Elle, but how did someone even manage to drug a highly trained intelligence operative like Elle? Unless she wanted to get kidnapped? 

 

He pulled out his phone.

 

_Someone has kidnapped your criminal psychologist. MH_

_I know. I am now crouching outside an abandoned seafood storehouse at Chinatown.  SH_

_Good. Keep an eye on her. I’m sure you will do what is right, brother mine. MH_

_Obviously. When are your men arriving? SH_

_In ten minutes. MH._

**Some twenty minutes ago…**

Sherlock and John had tailed Dr Jonas Sebastian to Chinatown when they realised he left the fundraiser midway. They did not expect to catch the sight of an unconscious Elle being bundled into the back of a black Peugeot. Stranded without a vehicle, they had to commandeer a delivery van to give chase.

 

John was swearing whilst Sherlock seemed nonplussed about the twist of events. In reality, Sherlock was enraged and terrified that Elle was going to get hurt. He recalled their conversation about white supremacists viewing her mixed heritage as an abomination. However, Sherlock had to rein in his emotions or the rescue would go awry.

 

“What if we can’t get to her on time?  What if they kill her before we can even arrive?” John said worriedly.

 

“How does worrying about the worst-case scenario help us in our cause and investigation? Right now we need to focus on following them without getting caught and think of a plausible plan of rescue!  Considering that we are unarmed, we need to find some sharp, heavy, preferably metallic objects to attack her kidnappers.” Sherlock rapped sharply.  

 

“I brought my weapon with me,” said John, petting his left hip gently.

 

Sherlock managed to muster a smile, “Dr Watson, you’re a wonderful man! I still need to get a weapon to knock some heads about. How dare they kidnap our psychologist!” He growled, clenching the edge of his seat tightly. Boy, was Sherlock going to knock some heads about.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Elle was staring at two men in their late 30s, who were also disguised as waiters at The Savoy. One was about six-foot-three inches and the other was about five-foot-eight inches in height. The shorter one had slapped her, punched her in her left eye and stole her jewellery. She was going to have to take them back because of the sensitive security devices embedded in them. She was also going to enjoy bashing his head in.

 

However, it was not the right time to make her move. Their “boss” as they said, was still on the way. 

 

“Why am I here?” she taunted them. “Can’t seduce women so you drug and kidnap me instead?” She spat on the ground, unwillingly play the damsel in distress to men who seemed far too comfortable assaulting women.

 

That earned her two more slaps. “Shut up you mongrel! You have no idea what our boss has planned for you,” the shorter of the two sneered.

 

“Who’s your f-ing boss?” she hissed angrily.

 

They kept quiet and the shorter fellow slapped her again. This time hard enough to knock some pins out of her hair and cut her bottom lip.

 

 _Bastards. Just wait till I get myself out of these restraints._ Elle clenched her fists tightly.

 

Footsteps approached. Surely, it was Jonas Sebastian. He stared menacingly at Elle as he removed his jacket and bowtie as if he was starting a ceremony.

 

“So what have we here? Dr Elle Martin, half French and half Chinese? Ah, the two races I despise the most,” he said softly, whilst rolling up his sleeves.

 

Elle did not bother to correct him that she was half Cambodian, not half Chinese. It did not make an iota of difference to bigots.

 

“I actually prefer the Chinese to abominations like you,” he sneered and pulled her hair back roughly.

 

“Did you think we would not notice you at The Savoy? Especially when we have seen you on TV defending Scotland Yard’s non-discriminatory employment policy!” He spat those words out.

 

“Why do you hate me so much? What have I ever done to you?” Elle asked.

 

“Why? WHY?” he sneered. Jonas was clearly a madman.

 

“Tell her why gentlemen! A mongrel does not deserve a reply from me,” he spat.

 

“Because you are impure. The Chinese are bad enough with their greed and corrupted business ways. You represent a mixture of white and yellow blood, a mixture which should have never happened! You are an abomination to my race! You deserve a fate worse than death!” the shorter of the two snarled.

 

Elle clenched her teeth, she abhorred bigots and white supremacists. She was itching to take action but they had to lose their guard first.

 

“Shall we have some fun, gentlemen? Shall we rape her before we strangle her?” Jonas taunted.

 

“Yeah!” her kidnappers chanted.

 

They ripped her beautiful dress and Jonas brought out some iron chains.

 

_So our serial murderer had some help as we deduced correctly._

 

Before Elle could make her move, a gunshot rang out and the taller of the two kidnappers shouted in pain and fell sideward.  

 

There was a lot of shouting and more shooting. When Jonas tried to escape, Elle pounced on him and knocked him out cold with a head butt.

 

Sherlock felt a tsunami wave of relief when he saw Elle alive. In fact, she was straddling Jonas with her hands still tied backwards and her dress in shreds. Somehow she managed to look rather fetching, especially since Sherlock got to witness her nifty, unarmed combat skills.

 

 _Stop this! She needs help now, not admiring from you!_ Sherlock took off his coat.

 

“Are you all right, Elle?” said Sherlock tenderly as he wrapped his coat around her, lingering for a few moments.

 

“I am all right, Sherlock, thanks for rescuing me,” she said.  “I believe I’m sitting on top of our serial murderer,” she winced in pain as she got up with Sherlock’s protective arm around her.

 

“Let me examine you, Elle.” John urged after he gallantly took out the other kidnapper with the back of his pistol. 

 

A small team of Mycroft’s men burst into the storehouse, a few minutes too late. 

 

“Gentlemen, stay back. You have just walked into a crime scene. You can report back to your superior that Dr Martin is safe and the kidnappers are alive.” Sherlock said authoritatively.

 

One of the men nodded and directed his team to report back to headquarters. Sherlock dialled for Lestrade immediately. He felt awash with relief that they had reached the storehouse in time and stopped the attackers before Elle got hurt or worse. Sherlock felt somewhat perturbed that he cared more than necessary. He would examine that irrational sentiment when he was back in familiar Baker Street.  

 

The attackers had broken several of her ribs, fractured her left cheekbone, bruised her left eye and split her bottom lip. Fortunately, there was no other injuries that John could examine. Sherlock kicked the conscious but shot kidnapper for good measure when John announced Elle’s injuries. Elle was glassy-eyed and looked weary. Her earlier glamourous look was gone and Sherlock felt his heart clench at how vulnerable she looked.

 

Elle sat in between Sherlock and John when Lestrade and the Met arrived. Lestrade looked beside himself with anger when he saw how bruised Elle was.

 

“Are you alright, Elle? I am so sorry…Thank God John and Sherlock were tailing Jonas…” he said, placing had his reassuring hands around her.

 

Once our forensics have done the checks, you are going to St. Bart’s for a thorough check up. These bastards are going away for a long time!” Lestrade rapped.

 

“Thanks Inspector, I am alright, thanks to John and Sherlock, who arrived in time,” she smiled weakly.  Elle was getting rather sick of being treated like a fragile object.

 

John had insisted on accompanying Elle to St Bart’s whilst Sherlock peered at her with a concerned look. With Jonas and his cronies in custody, his case was resolved. For Elle, her mission was best half completed.  

 

In the end, Mycroft was the one who met Elle at St Bart’s and they had a thorough debrief on the night’s events.

 

“Does Sherlock know about your identity?” he asked at the end of the debrief.

 

“I think he suspects something but he has not indicated anything to me,” she replied.

 

“On that note, Mycroft. I need that big favour from you. I need Sherlock’s assistance in incriminating Baron Gordon,” Elle asked gently.

 

Mycroft pursed his lips.

 

“Is it not possible to get someone else from The Chrome to assist you?” Mycroft replied.

 

“In this case, no. Moreover, Sherlock has someone called Bill Wiggins, whom The Chrome has been looking to recruit. I need Sherlock’s unique expertise, Mycroft. Rest assured, his safety will be my top priority.” Elle persuaded.

 

“Very well, Elle. Remember there cannot be any romantic overtures towards my little brother,” Mycroft warned.

 

Elle shrugged and grimaced in pain.

 

“I’ll send you home. You really should take a few days off to recover from your injuries,” Mycroft chided.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

By the time Elle reached her apartment, it was past three in the morning. She had mucked up her mission somewhat – if Baron Gordon knew about her kidnap and assault from Jonas Sebastian, she would not be able to play the honey trap card with him. She would have to rely on other measures (Sherlock Holmes and Bill Wiggins) to extract her information. However, as the Baron had an adopted Chinese daughter, he would have disapproved of Jonas Sebastian’s racist cum murder campaign.

 

Either way, she did not fancy the idea of flirting with the Baron. She realised she very much preferred Sherlock Holmes’ company. She was truly impressed with his ingenuity, deductive skills and his superb tracking skills that saved her from a nasty fight. Not that Elle could not save herself, it was just a nice change to be saved by someone else, who also happened to be rather desirable.

 

Moreover, Mycroft’s insistence on her non-romantic stance towards Sherlock simply made Sherlock more desirable.

 

_Oh, you have to stop this right now! You have a mission to complete, not a relationship to cultivate!_

 

She decided to shower thoughts of Sherlock’s blue eyes and dark curls away before taking the next course of action. She would visit 221B Baker Street once The Chrome provided the green light.

 


	4. "The game is on!"

“Agent Elle Martin, requesting for a check-in with Headquarters. Password Sierra Echo Papa 7583999,” Elle requested over a secured video conference call.

 

“Good afternoon Agent Martin, Agent Amir is in room 56, putting you through,” said a nameless operator.

 

“Elle! What is this report from the British Secret Service that you were poisoned and kidnapped last night?” Agent Amir asked sharply.

 

“Amir, I was _drugged_ with an odourless and scentless sedative slipped into my water that should be processed by our research department and updated into our substances folio for other agents. As for the kidnap, it was fruitful and brought Jonas Sebastian into custody for a serial murder crime that was previously unknown to us.” Elle responded.

 

“Hmm, good job. We’ll refer to the substance you mentioned, a sample was brought in by our British liaison. Do you have any updates on the Baron?” Amir asked.

 

“Thank you Amir. I made the acquaintance of the Baron last night at the fundraiser before my kidnap, However, to proceed further, I request the ad hoc assistance of Sherlock Holmes, Dr John Watson and Bill Wiggins. I have already received the approval of my British Secret Service counterpart,” Elle requested.

 

“Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson sound vaguely familiar. Let me do a quick background scan. Hmm, consulting detective and ex-Army doctor with an active online blog, occasional legwork for the British Secret Service. Okay, your request is approved. We may need to engage their services in future. We will liaise with them directly for payment. As for Bill Wiggins, do your best to recruit him. His technological skills are what we need to advance to the next level. Anything further?” Amir sounded.

 

Elle shook her head. 

 

“If not, all the best and Godspeed Agent Martin!” Amir signed off.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Sherlock was compartmentalising last night’s events in his favourite chair and silk dressing gown. His initial box on Dr Elle Martin had rapidly expanded into a small room with cabinets for her unarmed combat skills, formal appearance and alliance with Mycroft. His strong reactions towards her kidnap and successful rescue perturbed him.

 

_Why do I feel so strongly for someone I barely know? Why did I feel jealous when I saw her with Mycroft?_

_Because you love her, you, twat. Sherlock’s inner John said._

 

_Love? Sherlock Holmes does not fall in love or get involved in romantic relationships. They are messy, distracting and doomed from the start._

_So why were you jealous when you saw me kissing Mycroft? Elle said, sauntering in her golden toga dress._

_How and when did Elle make herself a permanent resident in my mind palace?!_

_Why were you so relieved to see me safe at the storehouse? She smiled and sat down on a wooden crate. Her posture conveniently exposed her long legs in the revealing dress._

Sherlock gulped and felt a long forgotten ache creep inside his loins. 

_I saw you admiring my figure when you thought I was not looking. Did you not wonder about the underwear I was wearing underneath that dress? She smiled enticingly and licked her lips._

Sherlock flared his nostrils as he felt a warm heat rush into his loins.

 

_I can show you. She lifted her dress over her hips and opened her legs slowly, exposing a white and lacy triangle._

 

Sherlock breathed in sharply as he felt the hardness of his full arousal.

 

 

 

“Ahem.” John’s distinctive throat-clearing sounded out of the blue.

 

Sherlock snapped his eyes open and crossed his legs swiftly.

 

“Why don’t you ever knock?” Sherlock bristled, whilst pulling his dressing gown over his groin area.

 

“I bloody live here, I never knock to enter the living room! Besides, you _never_ knock when you enter my bedroom!” John grumbled.

 

“For God’s sake!” Sherlock complained, feeling his cheeks redden from being “caught” by his flatmate.

 

“You were having a wet dream about Elle, weren’t you? In your mind palace thingy…you fancy her! Hah! Admit it!” John accused.

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I was NOT having a wet dream, only teenagers have that, and I do NOT fancy Elle!” Sherlock defended, his cheeks turning a darker shade of red.

 

“Liar. You snarl at me each time I talk to her and I saw how you looked at her last night. I’m not an idiot, Sherlock,” John said and sat down across Sherlock. 

 

“It’s perfectly normal to fancy a woman, especially an attractive and intelligent woman like her.  It’s ok, Sherlock. I won’t get in your way. You deserve to find happiness,” said John gently.

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “John, it’s never going to work between me and any woman. I don’t do feelings, sentiment is bad for my mind and my job. Besides, she will always be in danger if we ever develop anything. She was already in danger last night.” Sherlock reasoned.

 

“Does that mean I get a shot then?” teased John.

 

Sherlock glared at John. “Have you checked our email today? Do we have any _new_ cases?”

 

John snorted. “You are not changing the subject, Sherlock. You are the one who said she is more than a criminal psychologist. I believe she is capable of more you can imagine. You cannot decide for her.”

 

“Why are we even discussing this? She has not expressed any interest in either of us. In fact, she was with Mycroft last night. You should be having this conversation with him!” Sherlock rebutted.

 

“Because I caught you red-handed earlier! Who else would you be fantasizing about? Madonna?” John said incredulously.

 

John was never going to let Sherlock forget this incident.

 

“How did you know that she has not expressed any interest in either of us? Why do you even care if you are not attracted to Elle?” John teased.

 

Sherlock groaned in frustration.

 

“Admit it. You fancy her, a lot.” John was relentless.

 

Sherlock sighed. “So what if I do? It is never going to work out between us. I mean, look at me, I have less than five friends and no experience in romantic attachments. How can I be in a normal, functioning relationship with any woman?”

 

John peered at Sherlock with a smile - “My dear Sherlock, I believe we cannot choose who we fall in love with. If this relationship is meant to be, I believe you will want to be a better man for her and both of you will work things out.”

 

As always, Sherlock was amazed by John’s huge capacity to believe in a higher power and in him. John had a tendency to make him feel more human than he thought himself to be. John was truly his best friend.

 

The doorbell rang in the distance.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A black-eyed Elle sat cross legged on Sherlock’s and John’s designated client seat. She managed to cover most of her facial bruises with a huge pair of cat-eyed sunglasses. Despite her injuries, she looked relaxed in her cream linen shirt and matching shorts.

 

 _Does she wear shorts on purpose to torture me?_ Sherlock quickly sauntered to the kitchen to make tea before he vocalised his thoughts out loud.

 

“Shouldn’t you be resting at home Elle? We understand that you were given two weeks’ hospitalisation leave?” asked John with genuine concern.

 

“I’m really alright, John. I get bored at home anyway. I’m here to see my favourite detective duo,” voiced Elle.

 

“How can we be of assistance, Elle?” asked Sherlock as he served tea.

 

_I’m serving tea? Where is Mrs Hudson when I need her?_

 

Elle smiled at Sherlock. _You, clever man. You look a little sexy in your dressing gown._

 

“John and Sherlock, I would like your assistance in helping me capture a person of interest. As Sherlock would have deduced by now, I am not a criminal psychologist, well, technically speaking, I was one until I was approached to work with an independent agency.” Elle said calmly.

 

“Whatever I say to you is of the strictest confidence. You are only currently bugged by Mycroft, who is already aware of my cover and mission,” Elle continued despite Sherlock’s irritated snorts.  

 

“I’ll show you where the bugs are later, Sherlock. Sorry, Mycroft. “Elle smiled and mouthed slightly towards her left.

 

“Before I go any further, I would like to express that my employer will be compensating you handsomely for your assistance on a level 10 case,” she added and paused.

 

John gaped with his mouth half open while Sherlock looked like he just struck gold.

 

_This is why I could only get a 70% deduction on her! She is an intelligence operative! How does she get even more intriguing? Hmm, her legs look very good from this angle._

_Focus, Sherlock, focus! We have a level 10 case! Sherlock’s inner Mycroft jibed._

“Yes, yes, yes! You have our assistance. Give us the details now!” Sherlock exclaimed and waved his hand.

 

“Hold, hold on a minute. Wait, hang on. You are, were a criminal psychologist who is now working undercover as a criminal psychologist for a private organisation called The Chrome where only the best operatives are hired?” John said slowly.

 

“And you need our help? How did you get kidnapped? Did you get kidnapped on purpose?” John asked curiously.  

 

Elle smiled. “You are right, John, sorry to lay all that info on suddenly. Firstly, yes and yes. Secondly, I was drugged by something new that was odourless and transparent – a perfect and rare sedative that only the best chemists in the world could concoct. Thirdly, I did not get kidnapped on purpose, though it did serve our purposes as Jonas Sebastian is one of my key persons of interest. Lastly, a very huge thank you to both of you, which brings us back to my request for your invaluable assistance.

 

“Are you happy now, John?! Can we finally get to the case?!” Sherlock grumbled.

 

 “On that note, Sherlock, can you please leave the talking to John or myself during this case? Our cover will be easily blown when you showcase your classic Sherlockian charm.” Elle gestured with her hands and pursed her lips as if holding back her laughter.

 

“It is just not your day is it, mate?” John laughed.

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Oh for God’s sake, the case, Elle, the case!”

 

“Sorry I couldn’t resist,” she grinned widely.

 

“I am here on behest of several organisations to identify and capture The Scorpion’s ringleader, Dr Jonas Sebastian and financier, Baron Felix Gordon.  The Scorpion is notorious as a global hackers’ network, responsible for the biggest security leaks for the past few years.” Elle paused.

 

“Their intention is to sow chaos and reap massive profits on the global stock markets. According to the grapevine, they are planning another major disruption termed The Unicorn, and their associates will stand to gain billions upon billions of dollars. Imagine the mayhem they will cause to the global economy, which is already in a delicate state. I need intelligence on this asap to nip such activities in the bud,” Elle said with a slight furrow in her brow.

 

“We understand that Jonas was also spreading hate crime on the internet and was taking a physical approach in his hate crime. He has been captured and will face his judgement. Thanks to you, both. Hopefully his arrest will slow down their operations.” Elle stated.

 

“As for Baron Gordon, I need to prove beyond any shadow of doubt that he has been The Scorpion’s key financier and broker. He has been bringing in more money to finance their operations from other sources. I need to find out who, why, when and how. Will Bill Wiggins help us?” Elle asked pointedly at Sherlock.

 

“It sounds like his gig. I will text him now,” Sherlock said seriously.

 

“Surely we need to take out the operational hacker networks?” Sherlock queried. 

 

“Yes, once we trace their whereabouts,” Elle nodded.

 

“We have been unsuccessful in our online offensive efforts into The Scorpion as they are renowned for their immense hacking and shielding abilities,” Elle frowned.

 

“Bill will be here in thirty minutes.” Sherlock said and looked at a wide-eyed John.

 

“The game is on!” Sherlock was grinning from ear to ear.

 

Sherlock was beyond excited. This was one of the best level 10 cases they ever encountered. A global hacker network that disrupts nations to profit billions? With elite British and likely high society American involvement? This was a level 12! He never expected a woman to seek his assistance on a level 12 case, much less a woman taking the lead.

 

If Sherlock Holmes ever entertained romantic notions, Elle would be the woman of his dreams. She had brains, cases and beauty, in that particular order. Technically speaking, she was beginning to occupy an important part of his mind palace. He peered at the source of his distraction ( _and level 12 case!_ ) sitting on his sofa, her lithe legs crossed and her attention focused on her iPhoneX. It was a rather lovely image that he would store for future reflection.

 

_Women like her will always be travelling and hardly the sort to settle down. She probably has boyfriends on different continents. Enjoy it while she is still in London. Sherlock’s inner Mycroft warned._

 

_I don’t care. What are the chances of this opportunity ever occurring again?_

 

“Sherlock, you have been looking in my direction for the past five minutes, is there something you wanna ask me?” Elle said and smiled at Sherlock warmly.

 

Sherlock blushed and John sniggered.

 

“I’ll go and make us more tea then,” John said and made himself scarce.

 

Sherlock felt his gut’s butterflies somersault and his heartrate increase as he prepared for his first-ever adult male conversation with his woman of interest.

 

“H-how long have y-you been working for The Chrome?” Sherlock stuttered.

 

“I’m afraid I can’t share that information, Sherlock. I can share that I am sufficiently experienced to know when I am out of my depth. I will ensure that John and your safety will be my top priority,” Elle said seriously.

 

_And just last night I was wondering how I could keep her safe from the hands of Jonas Sebastian. She is perfect!_

“Are you married or attached?” Sherlock asked.

 

Elle looked surprisingly at Sherlock, “What an odd question. Why are you curious about my romantic status, Sherlock?”

 

_Gosh, she is not making this easy!_

“Well, I-I was just wondering what was The Chrome’s policy on such matters.” Sherlock managed to blunder.

 

John was suddenly racked with a coughing fit in the kitchen.

 

“Oh, I see. Well, they don’t frown on it and neither do they encourage it. It’s just unadvisable for us covert agents to have romantic attachments – we will have too much at stake. That being said, it is quite common for us to date or marry one another since normal civilians can never understand our career choice and lifestyle. “Elle shrugged and looked a little wistful.

 

_Well that makes two of us, abnormal civilians._

 

“Anyway, you accurately deduced my romantic status the first time we met,” she smiled.

 

“Oh, I thought that was the part of the 30% I failed to deduce!” Sherlock smiled and looked relieved.

 

“Hah! I will never reveal the 30% that you missed!” She teased.

 

“Oh, that’s a challenge I cannot resist!” He teased back.

 

“You know, Sherlock. In my years of service, I have never met anyone like you. You are possibly the most brilliant man I have ever known.” Elle said genuinely.

 

Sherlock grinned. “The admiration is mutual. I have never met a woman who has ever given me a level 12 case!”

 

_What did I just say?_

_You don’t say such things to a woman you fancy! His inner John cried._

 

Elle laughed. “Oh, ouch. Oh please stop the jokes, my face and ribs are still healing from last night. You make me laugh.” She winced. 

Just then, the doorbell rang and Bill Wiggins appeared on 221B Baker Street.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that John and Sherlock are officially part of Elle's team, look forward to more hilarious and awkward (you know, the slightly smutty) situations.


	5. Dark Corners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle and Sherlock find out more about The Unicorn. Sherlock breaks one of his fixed routines.

Bill Wiggins got to work on Sherlock’s laptop once he understood the mission and his parameters. It seemed the way to attract Bill to work for The Chrome was to connect him to Sherlock. He fancied himself Sherlock Holmes’ prodigy but wanted the freedom to roam the streets or go anywhere he wanted, which would suit The Chrome’s purposes.

“Give me a couple of hours and I should be able to give you what you need, Ma’am.” Bill drawled lazily.

“Thanks, Bill! You’re a Godsend!” Elle beamed.

“Gentlemen, would you like to join me on a night’s surveillance mission on the Baron? He is supposed to be at one of his suburban properties tonight. It may be one of his hideouts or bolt holes since Jonas is now in custody.” Elle said.

“Sorry. I’ve got a night shift at the clinic. Perhaps next time.” John shrugged whilst he threw a meaningful look at Sherlock.

“Sherlock, are you up for it? We could be doing a fair bit of climbing and snooping around in dark corners. It could be dangerous.” Elle grinned.

“Of course, I’m up for it!” Sherlock said wickedly. “It sounds like a great way to spend the evening,” he grinned.

“Are you sure you wanna be doing this when you are obviously injured?” said John.

“These injuries are not that bad, John. I have experienced worse ones. Besides, we are racing against time.” Elle said.

  
Sherlock felt unsettled. Being an intelligence operative meant Elle put her life at stake whenever she was on a mission. He shuddered to think about the sort of injuries she had suffered before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**_Three hours later_ **

A sweaty Sherlock found himself sprawled face down on a rooftop and observing Baron Gordon and his security guards. The Baron had entered a luxurious mansion on the outskirts of London. Elle shared that the mansion was a hideout or meeting point for The Scorpion. Elle was on his left and lying on her front with her eyes peeled to her binoculars.

“Here, put this in your ear,” Elle put a small earpiece into Sherlock’s left palm. She stuck another earpiece into her right ear.

“I’ve bugged this mansion so we can hear everything that happens,” she said, adjusting herself into a more comfortable prone position.

Sherlock wondered how Elle managed that impressive task – she had probably impersonated as a cleaner or sneaked in like a proper spy? Judging from her speed and agility from the leopard crawling of the mansion grounds and scaling up to the rooftop (Sherlock could barely catch up) in her tight bodysuit, he reckoned it was the latter.

Sherlock concluded he had to incorporate more strength and cardio training into his usual exercise routine when he was huffing and puffing midway up the rooftop. He had to match his new colleague’s physical stamina, no matter how much he enjoyed admiring her pert bum from the back view.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How the heck did Jonas get arrested by Scotland Yard?” boomed the Baron.

“He was arrested be-because he was physically assaulting a member of Scotland Yard,” said someone.

“What? What the hell did he do?” This is such a screw up! We are just 4 days away from The Unicorn!” The Baron growled in anger.

“I have already promised and guaranteed our sponsors. And these are people we cannot afford to cross! Why is he not out on bail?” He ranted.

“He has been denied bail, Baron. He-he is a prime suspect for the recent London killings.” Another man muffled.

“WHAT THE F*^K!” The sound of glass breaking came through their earpieces.

“What did Jonas do?” The Baron bellowed.

“Ralph, Stephen and Jonas were part of a team who killed five Asians and Eurasians. They were rather organised and were caught by Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson when they were attacking victim no. 6.” the same man said.

Sherlock smirked to himself whilst Elle snorted in irritation.

_Obviously, the woman is never mentioned._

  
They heard some pacing and then a loud thump on a table.

“We need another person to helm The Unicorn,” Baron Gordon insisted.

“Any one of Jonas’ hackers up to the task?” he asked.

“Ben or Jamal could probably do the job. They are in Bali with the rest,” the same nameless man replied.

“Excellent. Get them online asap!” The Baron snapped.

  
Elle and Sherlock managed to eavesdrop midway into conference call before being detected. 

“Baron, our security detected some movement on one of the rooftops, they are running their checks now,” someone buzzed through an intercom.

_Crap. They must have upgraded their security. I have to get Sherlock out of here asap!_

  
“Let’s go!” Elle mouthed as she kept her gear in a hurry. She rolled towards to the left side of the roof swiftly and gestured for Sherlock to follow her quickly. She pulled out a thin cord of wire, hooked a tiny carabiner on her belt and another on the roof edge. She had pre-empted detection and planned her escape routes.

“Grab my waist, Sherlock!” she whispered quickly. With a quick look at her surroundings and with Sherlock grabbing her petite frame, they jumped off soundlessly off the roof.

“Humph!” Unfortunately, Sherlock’s unprepared, heavier frame landed them backwards and Elle landed directly on top of Sherlock with their noses touching.

There was an awkward pause - Elle grimaced in pain as she was still hurt from last night’s events. A quick-thinking Sherlock pulled her close to him and scampered into the nearest dark corner. They kept in total silence as several security personnel ran past them.

Sherlock's adrenaline was pumping as everything had happened in less than ten seconds. He felt every inch and curve of Elle’s five-foot-five-inch frame pressed tightly against him as the corner he haphazardly chose was extremely narrow. Her close proximity also meant that her scent assaulted his heightened senses.

_Oh dear God, she smells of roses and vanilla._

To make matters worse, Elle pushed her upper body backwards to keep her eye on the security personnel, which meant she ground her hips towards his. Sherlock gulped as he felt his loins respond and was glad for the cover of darkness to shield his pink face. He started reciting the periodic table in his mind. Anything to distract him from her firm and supple body.

_Helium, Neon, Argon, Krypton, Xenon, Radon, Ununoctium._

“Sherlock, as much as I enjoy hiding in dark corners with cute men like you, we have to leave now before they find us,” she whispered and placed her small hands on his chest.

_How could these small hands belong to a covert operative? Wait, did she just call me cute?_

  
Sherlock opened his eyes (when did he shut them?) and nodded at her silently. As the coast was clear, they crawled and hid in strategic corners until they reached Elle’s motorcycle. Sherlock was drenched in perspiration and gasping for breath when they rode off. He was beginning to envy Elle’s exceptional fitness levels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elle was munching her way into her third slice of pizza and listening to Bill Wiggins’ updates. She had unzipped herself out of the action bodysuit and was lounging on the sofa in her shorts and linen shirt.

She had an insatiable appetite and ate almost half of John’s Deliveroo order. Bill and John were also eating and the smell of the food was mouthwatering. Despite his habit of fasting during cases, even Sherlock had to quell his nagging hunger after the physicality of their earlier mission.

A familiar footstep was heading up Mrs Hudson’s house when Bill shared his analysis of The Unicorn. The lengthy list of financial institutions, stock exchanges, hedge funds and governments was rather disturbing.

“Evening all. Are we having a dinner party?” Mycroft said with an amused look.

Everyone looked up at Mycroft with pizza in their mouths and hands.

  
“Sherlock, do you fancy some banoffee pie with your pizza?” Mycroft said sarcastically.

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

  
“Hi Mycroft! I LOVE banoffee pie! Can I have some vanilla ice-cream to go with that please? Thanks a million!” Elle cheered and winked at Mycroft mischievously.

“I wouldn’t mind some dessert,” John chuckled. Mycroft rolled his eyes and texted on his mobile.

“Why are you here? I don’t recall summoning you,” Sherlock said tersely.

“Brother mine, I’m here because Elle is here. Surely, you've deduced that by now?” Mycroft replied in a haughty tone.

Sherlock glared at Mycroft and bit into his pizza slice fervently.

“What’s the update?’ Mycroft asked and peered over Elle’s shoulder.

“Bill was just sharing the list of most probable entities targeted by The Scorpion. You might want to share some of the names with your colleagues in the Secret Service,” Elle muttered with a frown.

_Why does Mycroft need to stand so closely to Elle?_

“That is good progress on The Unicorn. Thank you, Wiggins for your input. You have served England well,” Mycroft said seriously.

“Oh aye, no biggie, Mr Holmes. I am only doing what Sherlock and Elle asked,” Bill shrugged.

“Bill is the best in his field,” Elle beamed and Bill blushed.

“Sherlock and I found out that Gordon has found a replacement to play Jonas’ role for The Unicorn. The network is holed up in Ubud at the moment” Elle said.

“I will be on the early morning flight to Denpasar from Heathrow,” she continued.

“You’re flying alone?” John frowned.

“You can’t travel there alone. You’ll need backup, you’ll need John and me,” Sherlock said.

Elle glanced at Mycroft.

“You are right, Sherlock, I need you both. The network’s location is probably well guarded and you can play the role of my newly wedded husband,” she smiled.

Sherlock’s eyes widened slightly. “Yeah, that sounds g-good,” he said hesitantly.

Mycroft scowled. “Are you sure you can do this Sherlock, considering, well, your lack of experience?”

Sherlock’s eyes burned into Mycroft,” Do not assume to tell me what I can or cannot do, Mycroft!”

"Playing Elle's husband or boyfriend means you have to be comfortable with  _public_  displays of affection," Mycroft sneered.

"You mean like what you did at the Savoy? Hah! At least I'll make sure she won't get kidnapped!" Sherlock sneered back.

  
The atmosphere in 221B was thick with the brothers’ tension. Elle rolled her eyes. 

“Hang on, Sherlock gets to play Elle's husband and I-I get to play the bachelor who travels to Bali to score?” John said quizzically.

“Sounds good to me!” John nodded in jest.

Bill and Elle chuckled in laughter, cracking the tension.

“Bill, you should join us too. You can play John’s wingman. We need you onsite to monitor and block The Scorpion’s efforts,” Elle added.

“I've never been to Bali, that just sounds great to me, Ma’am!” Bill’s eyes glinted.

All eyes turned to Mycroft.

“Have a fruitful trip. I expect daily updates, Elle,” Mycroft huffed and left unceremoniously.  
  
Elle smiled and nodded. “Where is our banoffee pie?”

“It’s on its way,” Mycroft echoed down the stairs.

"All right, gentlemen. Pack your beach wear. Our flight is in seven hours. I'll get our flight details within the hour." Elle said, whilst peering on her mobile phone.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sherlock peered at his miserable selection of summer clothes. All he had packed was a couple of T-shirts and a pair of jeans. Sherlock Holmes had never travelled to a beach destination. He would have to shop at Bali to avoid sunstroke.

 

_Hi, I am standing at your door. Can you please let me in? GM_

_Sure. SH_

_Why is Elle here at the dead of the night?_

“Hi Sherlock, sorry I didn’t want to wake John and Mrs Hudson,” Elle smiled.

 

“What brings you here?” Sherlock said curiously.

 

“I just wanted to ask if you are truly comfortable with our cover as a couple, without anyone else around,” she peered at Sherlock.

 

Sherlock gazed deeply at Elle’s hazel eyes and pulled her towards him.

 

“Why do you think I would be uncomfortable?” he whispered and dipped his lips a fraction of an inch towards hers.

 

“If I am going to play your newly wedded husband, I will be kissing you as often as I please and touch you in places that only a husband should.” He teased in his low baritone voice.

 

Elle felt her heart pound and she breathed in sharply. She never expected Sherlock Holmes to have a masculine and sexy side. It was extremely desirable. He was certainly well trained in role play…

 

Sherlock closed the tiny space between his lips and her soft lips. A small electric current caught them off guard and Elle gasped her mouth open slightly. Sherlock immediately teased his tongue into her mouth and deepened his kiss gently. Sherlock moaned as he felt Elle opening up to him and responding ardently with her tongue and lips. His hands trailed up her back and neck whilst her hands were pressed onto his chest. She tasted and smelt like roses and strawberries and he wanted to devour her completely.

 

Elle broke off their kiss to catch her breath. “Ooh, Sherlock, sigh, y-you are a great kisser,” Elle gasped with Sherlock still holding on to her waist.

 

_Crap, what just happened? Elle, this is not going to help in your mission!_

Elle broke herself from Sherlock’s tight hold on her waist. “You obviously have quite a bit of experience in field operations. I should not be saying this, but I am slightly looking forward to our role playing, Sherlock.” Elle’s eyes glinted.

 

“For the record, Mycroft was misinformed about your level of experience. I’ll see you in a few hours, _husband_.” She winked and glanced quickly at the obvious bulge in his pants.

 

Sherlock could only respond with a goofy grin after their searing first kiss.

 

_Where did that come from? Oh God, did she just make a pass at me? What just happened?_

He was going to have to relieve that aching need in his loins tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews please. :)


	6. Husband and Wife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up between Sherlock and Elle.

Bali was vibrant, colourful and humid.  The weather was more than thirty degrees Celsius with a humidity of more than seventy-five percent. The heat was brutal. Sherlock was sweltering in his usual white cotton long sleeved shirt and black dress pants.  Fortunately, Elle’s employer had surprised them with first class flights, two luxurious villas and a full range of summer attire that was planted at their villa’s doorstep.  Sherlock and Elle even had matching wedding bands that fit them perfectly.

 

“How did they know our sizes?” John said with his eyes widened at the sight of their luggage with personalised tags.

 

“Let’s just say that my company knows where to get their best information,” Elle smirked and picked up her suitcase.

 

“Let’s freshen up and meet up in an hour at my villa?” Elle asked.

 

Sherlock stared at the spacious honeymoon villa that had an infinity pool, an open bathroom, a day bed and a huge white poster bed.  There were other beautiful accompanying facilities but these key structures were the most conspicuous in his mind. He wasn’t sure if he could sleep peacefully next to a woman who distracted him to no end.  

 

Alternatively, he could avoid any potential awkward situations by sleeping on the day bed. However, if they were being tailed by anyone, his bed choice would blow their cover.

 

They had played the happy couple during the long flight that won them radiant smiles and preferential treatment from the flight stewardesses. They feigned her facial bruises with a tale of armed robbery where Sherlock played the hero. Sherlock had held Elle’s hands and kissed her several times. He had experienced more body contact with her during the flight than any other woman within his lifetime!

 

Their spacious first class seats afforded them a comfortable bed each and Elle slept most of the flight with Sherlock pretending to sleep, whilst stealing glances at her peaceful, sleeping form. He had more material of her to tuck away into his mind palace.

 

“What do you think of our villa?” Elle asked, breaking Sherlock out of his reverie.

 

“It will suffice,” Sherlock answered, avoiding her gaze.

 

Elle rolled her eyes.

 

“Are we tailing anyone later?” he decided to change the subject.  After all, they were on a level 12 case!

 

“Yes, a small group of hackers supposedly hang out at the nearby bars in the next town. I am waiting for some confirmation on their specific location,” she nodded.

 

“Relax, Sherlock. I’m sure we can have some fun during and after this case,” she smiled and placed her hands on Sherlock’s shoulders.

 

“Meanwhile, I am going to have a quick swim to cool off a little!” she exclaimed.

 

Several minutes later, Sherlock heard a splash and happy yell from Elle. Clearly, her injuries were healing well.  He decided to hop into the open bathroom. It was a good thing that they had a Balinese wooden shutter to protect his naked form from the openness. The cool water sprinkled out of a jumbo rain shower head, washing away his earlier perspiration.  He changed out of his usual formal attire to a short-sleeved linen shirt and linen bermudas that fit him perfectly. Clearly, Elle’s employer was thorough in their understanding of Sherlock’s fashion sense.

 

He walked towards the infinity pool to admire the surroundings. Bali was certainly a beautiful location with its lush greenery and expansive beaches. The view was spectacular, especially with Elle swimming laps along the length of their infinity pool. Her freestyle strokes were smooth and graceful, gliding her form across the pool effortlessly.   

 

Sherlock decided to distract himself with research on the local news/crime stories when he caught himself staring at Elle’s pert bum for too long.

 

 _Get a hold of yourself!_ His inner Mycroft chided.

 

The local newspapers were filled with local announcements and advertisements about new resorts and restaurants. There was barely any mention of crime, save for some theft of poultry and alcohol. Sherlock read the papers from cover to cover.

 

_Boring! How can anyone live here?_

“Found anything interesting?” said Elle. “Silly me, I forgot about my towel,” she said.

 

Sherlock looked up and saw Elle’s dripping wet form with her nipples standing erect. Her scanty white bikini left very little to Sherlock’s imagination. Every single curve of her body was on full display. She looked just like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model, save for a smattering of scars on her right abdomen and right thigh.

 

_Did she get the scars from her previous missions? And how is she healing so quickly from her injuries? Oh God, she is so fit!_

 

As she walked towards him, Sherlock gulped and lost his train of thoughts. He wasn’t sure how he could prevent himself from getting too excited if Elle was going to be clad in skimpy bikinis during this mission.

 

“How are you healing so quickly from the kidnap?” Sherlock was flustered.

 

_Ah, Sherlock. Ever so observant._

 

“All I can say is that we have managed to chemically facilitate the healing process,” she winked.

 

“Anyway, what do you think a newly wedded couple should be doing right now?” she teased and placed her damp hands on his shoulders.

 

She broke the tension by kissing him first. Both of them were unprepared for the same electric current they experienced last night. They both stopped as if in shock.

 

_Oh, sod it. I’m doing this!_

Sherlock pulled Elle into his lap with a possessive kiss. He placed his left hand over the back of her head and his right hand covered her waist as he pressed his lips passionately over hers.  

 

Elle was surprised at Sherlock’s response. She had simply wanted to change the conversation topic and expected him to throw a snide remark at her since they were not in public. She felt Sherlock’s obvious excitement pressing into her bum as she laid on his lap. She was starting to get swept away with her own arousal as Sherlock kissed her with a furious passion and stroked his long fingers along her thighs.

 

Sherlock pushed aside Elle’s bikini top to caress and suckle on her nipples, winning pleasurable moans from her. He wanted to touch her everywhere at once, the physical sensations he experienced were overwhelming. Elle started to stroke his erection through his bermudas and it was Sherlock’s turn to moan in pleasure.

 

_Knock, knock, knock._

 

Someone rapped sharply on their door, breaking them of their lustful daze.

 

_Go away! Who the hell is that?_

Sherlock growled in frustration whilst Elle pulled herself out of Sherlock’s embrace and ran towards their bedroom.

 

_What the hell am I doing? Keep yourself focused on the mission, Elle._

The doorbell rang this time.  Elle appeared in a bathrobe and addressed their “intruder”.

 

It was John. Sherlock rolled his eyes and covered his unsatisfied erection with the newspapers. Twice now, John had interrupted his private moments with Elle.

 

“Hi, you two! Sherlock, you’re holding on to my power adapter. I need to charge my phone.” John said while throwing admiring looks at their villa.

 

“I’ll get it, John. Sherlock’s uh, occupied with his research,” Elle smiled at John brightly.

 

Sherlock smirked and pretended to fuss at the newspapers/his camouflage. He was not about to stand up in his current condition.

 

“Bill and you settling in ok?” Elle asked.

 

“Oh yes! I _love_ our villa.  I think we should extend our trip once the case is over. What do you think Sherlock?” John asked.

 

“That’s a great idea, John! You seem to be brimming with ideas these days. Too bad your sense of timing seems to have worsened appallingly!” Sherlock said sarcastically.

 

John frowned and looked at Elle. She shrugged her shoulders but her eyes glinted with amusement.

 

“As I was saying, we should extend our stay in Bali once we complete this case. Anyway, Bill has started scanning the local networks for suspicious activities and he has zoned into some hotspots around the Sanur area. 

 

“That’s great news!  I’ll come by once I’m showered.” Elle nodded.

 

Sherlock sighed inwardly and was suddenly afraid that Elle might change her mind about continuing their earlier activities. He felt like throttling John but grunted at him instead.

 

There was an awkward silence when Elle stepped out of the bedroom. She looked refreshed in a cream halter neck dress that matched Sherlock’s attire.

 

“Sherlock, can I ask you something?” she said sweetly and walked up to Sherlock.

 

Sherlock had rummaged through the entire villa of its books and magazines to distract himself whilst waiting for Elle.

 

“Yes?” he responded.

 

“Would it be alright with you if we delay any further physical intimacy between us till this case is over?” she paused.

 

Sherlock blinked.

 

“I won’t deny that I am attracted to you. In fact, I am very attracted to you. And I sense you feel the same,” she continued calmly and placed her tiny hand in his large hand.

 

_Woah. What?_

“However, as you well know, there is a lot of stake here and we cannot afford to lose focus and get distracted with whatever is going on with us,” she said and peered at Sherlock intently.

 

Sherlock was speechless at her Elle’s frankness. He never had a straightforward conversation about emotions and sexual intimacy before and somehow she managed that in a few sentences. He felt relieved, delighted and frustrated at the same time.  

 

“You are right on both counts. I fully agree with your suggestion, Elle.” Sherlock uttered after several moments of silence.

 

Elle smiled. “Alright then! Let’s go and tackle our level 12 case!”

 

Sherlock grinned widely. She certainly knew how to press his buttons!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Bill had his IT equipment all set up when Sherlock and Elle arrived.  His room looked like a mini military command centre. 

 

“Ma’am, the equipment that your company sent are top of the line and simply brilliant!” Bill gushed.

 

“You know what? If you would like to freelance a little with my employer, I could arrange for you keep the equipment.” She winked conspiratorially.

 

Bill’s mouth gaped in surprise at Elle’s company’s generosity.

 

“Oh wow, I’ll let ya know at the end of this mission, Ma’am,” he uttered.

 

“So this is where our hackers are chillin’,” he pointed to his laptop.  

 

“They are located at Villa Ngetis, about 2.3 kilometres from Sanur Beach. As you can see, these red spots indicate high frequency electronic activities. I’ve started a scan to detect the best time to hack into their networks for the evidence you need to nab Baron Gordon,’ he muttered.

 

“That’s excellent work, Bill!” Elle tapped her right hand on Bill’s shoulders.

 

“I hope we are hungry? My intelligence tells me that these hackers like to hang out at The Ducks Nutz, which is a fifteen-minute car ride away,” Elle announced.

 

“John, would you like to put some of your English charm to good use with the ladies? We could do with some extra information about their security measures.” She smiled.

 

“Sherlock, I need you to exercise your amazing deduction powers and identity these hackers whilst pretending that we are on a romantic date,” she said.   

 

Sherlock nodded and groaned inwardly at the amount of physical contact that would undoubtedly contribute to his increasing levels of sexual frustration.

 

“Bill, order whatever you want from room service. Knock yourself out!” she smiled.

 

Sherlock was not used to a woman giving orders but in this case, he did not mind it at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The Ducks Nutz was half filled with a good mix of locals and tourists.  The atmosphere was friendly and the cuisine was delectable. Sherlock was forced to eat something as he was on a dinner date with his “wife”. By the time they finished with their appetisers, Sherlock had deduced everyone in the establishment.

 

None of those present were the hackers they were looking for. Most of the tourists were simply looking for a good time and the locals were more than happy to accommodate.  Perhaps the hackers were busy with their preparation for The Unicorn.

 

John was seemingly having a good time with a group of young local women who spoke good English and were offering to host John for a private Balinese tour.  John was a natural and attracted these women like bees to honey.

 

_Sigh, if only I could talk to Elle the way John spoke to these women._

 

Elle was happily tucking into her food and Sherlock’s food. His “wife” seemed to have a bottomless pit for a stomach.

 

“How do you eat so much food and stay focused on a case or mission as you call it?” Sherlock was perplexed.

 

Elle shrugged, “I tend to eat more when I’m on a mission. My brain and body are working overtime so I need to feed it. How do you survive with your mediocre appetite?”

 

She was now munching on his nasi campur, a local Balinese rice dish mixed with multiple side dishes, “Have you tasted this? Oh, this is so good!”

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes and pushed his plate closer to Elle.

 

Besides Sherlock’s grumbling at the unfairness of Elle’s metabolism, they were actually having a good time laughing over Sherlock’s deductions. Perhaps it was the new environment or the vibe of The Ducks Nutz, Sherlock actually felt some measure of happiness that was more fulfilling then the usual high of solving cases.

 

Or perhaps it was the way Elle made him approach his deductions, instead of a pure methodical approach, she challenged him to delve deeper into their personal motivations with unobtrusive interviewing methods. For instance, he deduced that the bartender was occasionally stealing from the tip jar based on his guilty expressions. Much to his annoyance, Elle challenged him to find out the bartender’s underlying reason and egged him to interview the bartender on the pretext of ordering cocktails.

 

Naturally, Sherlock could never turn away from a challenge, especially one posed by Elle. It turned out that the bartender had a large family to feed and had a chronically ill daughter. Sherlock left a fat tip for the bartender when he collected their drinks. 

 

Sherlock was forced to conclude that selected social interactions could yield more benefits than he originally thought. He had always shied away from social interactions, citing such activities a waste of time and energy. He usually had his London homeless network sieve out information for him, but in a new place like Bali, Sherlock was left to his own devices.   

 

When Elle’s dessert was served, a group of four gangly youths walked into the Ducks Nutz. Sherlock quickly deduced that they were their hackers and watched Elle interact with them. Within minutes, they were laughing at her jokes and they all nodded at his direction when she bought them a round of drinks. She walked back to him with more cocktails.

 

“What did you find out?” he could barely contain his impatience.

 

“They are our hackers, together with another three who are rotating a 24-hour shift with them. They claim to be freelance IT security experts who have worked with governments and international organisations,” she replied and picked at invisible dust particles on his linen shirt.

 

“Some of them are not even adults and Jonas recruited them just late last year. The blonde one is the leader. He is Ben who was mentioned in the Baron’s mansion,” she continued and placed her arms around his shoulders.

 

“Ben is twenty-two and recently dropped out from MIT. He was bored and Jonas provided him with sufficient money and glamour. Nigel, the smallest one, was his roommate in MIT. He fancied starting his own tech start up but ran out of funds and was recruited by Ben with promises of wealth and fame. The ginger haired fraternal twins, George and Thomas, both twenty, and were recruited since 2015 via an anonymous hacker challenge,” she elaborated.

 

“How did you obtain that much information within that short time?” he frowned.

 

“Stop frowning, Sherlock. You are on a romantic date with your beloved wife,” she tickled his side.   

 

Elle smiled cheekily, “We’ve already gathered some intelligence on these kids. I’m not a genius consulting detective like you!”

 

_She called me a genius!_

 

“So what shall we do next, Ma’am? Visit them and send them flowers?” he mocked.

 

Elle smirked, “You know what? I think the gifting of flowers could be a Balinese custom for goodwill!”

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes to Elle’s amusement.

 

“Bill should have nailed their hacking activities by now. We cannot take action until he has surfaced irrefutable evidence of their criminal activities. So let’s play nice and let John enjoy his Balinese company a while longer,” she smiled and glanced towards John.

 

John was already on his fourth beer and gesturing excitedly to his lovely entourage.

 

“I reckon we continue to observe them and I’ll pop by later tonight with my surveillance devices. What do you think, husband?” she winked and cupped her tiny hand on his right cheek.

 

It was a nonverbal cue for them to kiss in public. Sherlock decided he should take the lead from now on since he preferred to wear the pants in any relationship, real or fictional.

 

He plucked her hand from his face, kissed it gently and tucked her stray hair behind her ears. It was a strangely intimate gesture and for a moment, Sherlock thought he saw a flash of pain appear in Elle’s facial expression.

 

_What were you thinking, Elle? Asking Sherlock to play your husband? What if he gets hurt or dies like David?_

A flashback of David, her late fiancé, bleeding out from multiple gunshots glared in Elle’s conscious mind for a few agonising seconds. The immense pain and grief experienced from the sudden loss of her late fiancé, David, had haunted Elle for the past two years. David had been her recruiter and trainer when she first joined The Chrome. In many ways, Sherlock reminded Elle of David.  His piercing eyes, height and intelligence were strikingly similar.

_Bring your focus back to the present moment. Bring your focus back to the present moment. Bring your focus back to the present moment._ Elle mentally meditated on the words that her grief counsellor had often used.  

 

Elle extracted her hand from Sherlock and reached out for her cocktail.

 

“What else have you deduced from the crowd here, Sherlock?” Elle asked whilst sipping her cocktail.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Back at the villa, Bill had experienced some major security walls that almost compromised his identity. Fortunately, his deft hacking skills brought him out of the nightmare scenario each time. 

 

After several attempts from an indirect approach, he finally hacked into The Scorpion’s network under the disguise of a clever virus that could go undetected until The Unicorn was in play.

 

“And…Bob’s your uncle!” he exclaimed in triumph.

 

_Ma’am, I’m in. BW_

_Excellent work! Copy all their info without any detection. We’ll be back soon. GM_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Bill has done what no other intelligence operative has ever achieved before.” Elle smiled brightly as she put away her iPhone.

 

“How did you get him to freelance for you?” she asked Sherlock.

 

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders. “He is quite intelligent and has grasped the basics of deduction. He’s rather useful to my detective work at times. Mycroft has tried to recruit him before, but with no success.”

 

She cocked her left eyebrow and smiled. “Shall we head back to our villa? He’s got what we need.”

 

They headed back to their villa, hand in hand.

 

John gave Sherlock a knowing smile before they left the Duck Nutz.

 

_You are quite the devoted husband.  JW_

 

_For God’s sake!  SH_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nasi Campur is an amazingly tasty dish that can also be found in Malaysia and Singapore. You can have various proteins like beef, mutton or fish to go with the other savoury vegetables. Spice it up with their pounded sambal chilli sauce! :)


	7. Drones and booby traps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock gets to play with some fancy high tech equipment. We get a little insight into Elle's past missions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long gap before Chapter 7! Comments and kudos are most appreciated! :)

Back in John’s villa, Bill presented a detailed breakdown of his “loot” from The Scorpion’s digital footprints. Elle was delighted with the amount of evidence that Bill had uncovered. Even Sherlock was impressed with the staggering amount of hacking and fraud the Scorpion had amassed over their few years of operations.

 

“Awesome job, Bill! Time for us to check in with Mycroft.” Elle grinned widely and pulled out her iPhone.

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes and plonked himself on one of the luxurious sofa chairs.

 

_Trust Mycroft to interfere with my level 12 case!_

 

“Well then, there is nothing much for us to do now except steal a look at their resort later tonight,” Elle said whilst emerging from her call with Mycroft.

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Meanwhile back in London…

 

The Secret Service had increased their surveillance on Baron Gordon, who announced a public disassociation with Dr Sebastian once the media got wind of Jonas’ arrest and charges. Other members of British elite society had also followed suit.

 

Mycroft had wisely ramped up the online and physical security of the Met Police to prevent any unauthorised release or escape of Dr Jonas Sebastian. Jonas still had strong allies within the terrorist and mafia networks. The public prosecutors had their work lined up with multiple charges of murder, fraud, physical assault and a whole host of international criminal activities yet to be uncovered by Elle and Sherlock.

 

From the public’s perspective, Baron Gordon was an innocent businessman who was misled by a secretly racist murderer cum private psychiatrist. To the covert community, Jonas Sebastian was the ringleader of The Scorpion and linchpin of other international criminal networks. Baron Gordon was, in reality, the overambitious financial enabler leveraging on Jonas Sebastian’s influence to fatten his pockets.

 

The arrest of Jonas Sebastian had made Elle’s employer and their clients very pleased. Nonetheless, they were concerned about the aftermath and potential lash back from his unsavoury networks.  Mycroft and his department were rushed off their feet monitoring the intelligence operations for the Unicorn all around the world. All assets have been called in to keep abreast of the offline and online activities of Jonas’ networks.

 

Nonetheless, the centre of the Unicorn was focused in Bali. Mycroft was perturbed that Sherlock was in the middle of this global taskforce. Even if he was protected by Elle, one of The Chrome’s best operatives, and other British agents, his protective brotherly instincts won over these precautionary measures.

 

_Having fun in the moonlight, dear brother? MH_

_Yes, we were just discussing where to best enjoy moonlight bathing. SH_

Mycroft rolled his eyes. 

 

_What do you really know about her? You are still stuck at 70%, and maybe even less. MH_

“For God’s sake!” Sherlock grumbled out loud.

 

_Is Jonas still sitting in his cell? SH_

_Of course, brother dear. Keep your eyes and ears peeled for the Baron. MH_

Sherlock frowned and ventured into his mind palace to sort out his files on Baron Gordon, Jonas Sebastian and their associates.

 

Two hours had passed when he got out of his mind palace. Elle was sitting next to him and reading off her iPad.

 

“Hi, care to share the insights from your mind palace trip?” she said whilst typing.

 

  

“Nothing much besides that Baron Gordon is likely to appear in Bali soon with some of Jonas’ associates,” Sherlock said.

 

“Hmm, that might work in our favour as we need more incriminating evidence,” Elle grinned at Sherlock.

 

_Time for me to play the honey card._

 

“So I suppose you’re going to have to seduce him?” Sherlock raised his brows.

 

“We should milk his weakness for women, especially unavailable women. He has already indicated his interest in me before,” she shrugged.

 

“Besides, he is pretty good looking, it’s not difficult for me to pretend that I’m attracted to him,” smirked Elle.

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes and suddenly felt sick to his stomach at the thought of Baron Gordon touching Elle.

 

“I won’t actually sleep with him, Sherlock,” Elle said.

 

“Besides, my interests lie elsewhere,” she said coyly and eyed Sherlock from top to toe with her left brow raised.

 

Sherlock felt his face (and other parts of his body) grow warm.  

 

Elle stood up and walked towards Sherlock with a big smile.

 

“Anyway, we received this new surveillance drone that can help us greatly in monitoring those hackers at Sanur! I still need to head towards their villa later to plant surveillance devices but this drone will be able to help with an initial reconnaissance and provide some ammunition support! How awesome is that? “Elle grinned widely.

 

“You mean _we_ still need to head towards their villa?” Sherlock said.

 

“Oh, I need you to help monitor the drone feed whilst I’m out on reconnaissance, so it’s best for me to go alone,” Elle said.

 

_What the heck? Sherlock Holmes does not do backend work!_

“For God’s sake! John or Bill can monitor the drone’s feed and you can always do with an extra pair of eyes on the ground!” Sherlock rapped sharply.

 

“I see your reasoning, Sherlock. However, Bill is busy with his online surveillance and John is probably too far gone with alcohol by now. I am trusting you to protect me with this drone and operate a sophisticated and very expensive piece of technology,” Elle said calmly and with a sweet smile.

Sherlock puffed out a frustrated breath and rolled his eyes.

 

“Fine, I see your logic,” huffed Sherlock.

 

“Let me take a look at the drone,” Sherlock rapped.

 

“Hey Sherlock, besides being a genius consulting detective, I know that you are an amazing field operative. This is why I chose you to be my fake husband,” Elle said soothingly as she placed a soft kiss on Sherlock’s left cheek.

 

Instinctively, Sherlock breathed in deeply and he inhaled her fruity vanilla scent. Her kiss gave him slight shivers down his spine.

 

_Gosh, she is such a distraction._

 

“You need to familiarize yourself with this drone now and _we_ can start our reconnaissance mission,” she urged.

 

“The drone is in one of the boxes inside our kitchen,” she said.

 

Sherlock got to work immediately and set up the drone command and controls within minutes. Elle was decked in her black, skin-tight outfit that camouflaged her perfectly. Her equipment fit snugly in a side sling. Her hair was pulled up in a bun and her night-vision goggles were dangling on her neck.

 

“You are going to stroll towards their villa dressed like that?” Sherlock looked at her quizzically.

 

“I found a shortcut,” she smiled brightly.

 

Sherlock was suddenly glad that he didn’t need to manoeuvre through any shortcuts with Elle tonight. Her pace was relentless even for Sherlock.

 

She handed him an earpiece. “This is our communication device. You should be able to get a visual of me via the drone in a few minutes,” she smiled.

 

The drone set off the same time as Elle. The camera visuals were crystal clear on his command and control. It flew quietly and swiftly towards the hackers’ villa. He flew high above the ground to avoid detection and settled on the northeast corner of the villa.

 

Some of the hackers were hunched over their laptops, whilst some were munching on takeouts. The drone detected 7 cameras located all around the villa. Sherlock took a screenshot and sent it over to Elle.

 

“Check your mobile for the overlay of the villa and camera locations,” Sherlock relayed.

 

“Roger that!” Elle huffed into the communications device.

 

“What are you doing?” Sherlock quipped.

 

“Getting through my shortcut. The vegetation is a lot denser than I expected,” Elle grunted.

 

Sherlock was suddenly glad that he was operating the drone controls. The drone had other cool functions like scanning for bombs and booby traps. Sherlock did a quick scan of the compound to keep Elle safe. There was no other heat signature popping up in the vicinity, indicating a lack of physical security. The hackers were obviously better at online rather than offline activities. He parked the noiseless drone on one of the pillars facing the villa to keep a bird’s eye view of the compound.

 

“The coast is clear,” Sherlock announced into his device.

 

“Roger that. I’ll reach in about 5 minutes,” Elle panted.

 

Sherlock smirked a little when he heard Elle’s panting.

 

Elle was having a hard time bashing through the vegetation that surrounded the northwest corner of the hackers’ villa at Villa Ngetis. The weather was humid and she perspired heavily into her full bodysuit. She did not want to chop away any of the trees to reveal her tracks and keeping her movement quiet was rather challenging with the thick vegetation impeding her movement. After fifteen minutes of manoeuvring amongst the bushes and thorns, she finally saw a small cliff marking her entry point. She rappelled downwards quietly and collected her climbing equipment into her side sling.

 

Her night vision goggles indicated the location of the cameras that Sherlock had sent earlier. Her task was to implant a tiny bug into each camera that would channel their current video feeds into Bill’s surveillance feeds. The location of the cameras meant that she had to disrupt one camera at a time to conceal her movements as she manoeuvred around the compound.

 

“I’m in place and will start in 5,4,3,2,1 now,” Elle whispered.  

 

Sherlock watched a dark figure dart around 7 cameras within 90 seconds.

 

_Damn, she is good._

She proceeded to climb one of the pillars after keeping still for 5 seconds. Through the eyes of the drone, Sherlock observed that the hackers did not detect any untoward movement and soon he saw a dark figure crawling on top of the villa’s roof. 

Elle was planting her own audio recording devices like she did at Baron Gordon’s mansion. She directed the sound frequencies to Bill’s surveillance successfully and was out of the compound in less than ten minutes.

 

“Mission over, please pilot the drone back. My ETA is 15 minutes,” she announced.

 

“Roger that,” Sherlock replied.

 

Elle got out of her sweaty bodysuit and walked along the scenic beachfront back to their villa like any other tourist. Only a trained operative would be able to guess that Elle had surveillance and climbing equipment in her sling bag.

 

When she entered the villa, Sherlock launched into his deductions immediately.

 

“You are hungry and craving some junk food. I’ve rung some room service for an extra cheesy pizza and chocolate ice-cream,” he smirked.

 

Elle laughed. “You certainly know the way to a girl’s heart!”

 

“You are also tired and your left ribs are hurting. You left me out of the mission because you don’t want a repeat of the previous mission outcome. You didn’t need the drone assistance, in fact, you didn’t need any assistance,” he continued with his arms folded across his chest.

 

“Wow! You missed something though,” Elle smiled and then grimaced as she sat down on the sofa.

 

“I prefer chocolate mint ice-cream,” she winked when Sherlock rolled his eyes.

 

“Seriously, I needed the drone’s assistance. There was no way I could check for any booby traps or claymore mines with my night vision goggles,” she said firmly.

 

“You saw the scars on my body earlier?” she gestured to her right side.

 

Sherlock nodded.

 

“Some were caused by undetected bobby traps. All agents need some support from their teammates. The best ones are those who know when to ask for help,” she continued. 

 

Sherlock shuddered to think about Elle getting hurt by bobby traps.

 

“What happened?” he asked.

 

Elle looked down and paused momentarily, “It was a mission in Pakistan. We were keeping our sights on a terrorist network and were hurt by a well-concealed booby trap. My partner was captured and killed while I escaped with part of a booby trap in my right abdomen.”

 

Sherlock’s eyes widened slightly, he deduced that the late partner was someone of significance to her. But something told him to drop the subject.

 

“Is John back yet?” she changed the subject and forced a smile.

 

“Yep, let’s get a debrief from his bar exploits,’ said Sherlock as he fired off a text to John.

 

 

Dr. John Watson was slightly red in his face and sprawled comfortably on his sofa when Sherlock barged into his villa.

 

“Anything important to report?” Sherlock quipped.

 

“Hello, your highness, I thought you could just deduce it?’ John quipped back.

 

“Hey John, you look merry,” Elle smiled warmly and sat next to him.

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat down on one of the sofas.

 

“Well, Elle. I don’t have anything of significance to report, except that one of the ladies cleans our hackers’ villa and heard them complaining about some Baron. She overheard them complaining about his arrival. They were rather upset a few days ago, I suspect that was when we arrested Jonas Sebastian. There is some burly dude who visits them once or twice a week. She did not mention anything else, “John said.

 

“That’s good intel, John, thank you very much,” Elle patted his shoulder. 

 

Elle proceeded to update everyone on the night’s findings and brought everyone to speed on Baron Gordon’s arrival. The ad-hoc team discussed possible action steps. It was decided that Sherlock, Elle and John would keep their sights on the Baron whilst Bill would continue his online surveillance with support from The Chrome’s tech team at night.

 


End file.
